


Awakening once more

by Veraverorum (your_Mother)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Injury Recovery, OCs - Freeform, baby Bofur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/pseuds/Veraverorum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the injury Bifur wakes up. And again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakening once more

It felt like not feeling, at first. No consciousness, no awareness. The hands could not reach, for there was no concept whatsoever of hands and reaching. Likewise eyes, mouth and ears could not work as they did not even know they existed.  
  
And then suddenly there it was, that primordial ache that travelled everywhere, creating the borders of a body. Everywhere it hurt, it was him.  
  
There was just that sensation. Ache. Ache! Nothing besides that pulsing ache. It waved back and forth in what he was now understanding was space. Stronger pain. Weaker pain. Strong again.  
  
Then it flowed through the space his body occupied. His body ended in different directions and he could move them, even if very slowly.  
  
The effort to move just one part had been heavy on him, and he was not even sure of the result. Did it… move? What was that? A finger?  
  
He felt the desire of action and his muscles obliging. A finger twitched.  
  
Out of nowhere something warm enveloped his finger, and the ones next to it. It was almost soft, and sort of small.  
  
"-R"  
  
Another sense awakening!  
  
Suddenly he could hear the blood rush inside his veins, a tempestuous drumming in synchrony with his ache, and a far away voice under that rumbling “Bifur! Bifur wake up!”  
  
But the strength, what little of it he had preserved, left him again and it was unconsciousness once more.  
  
He got around the concept of time and its duration the second time he awoke.  
  
Everything felt different from what he had perceived earlier.  
  
This time his eyes decided to do their job. His eyelids lifted up and found light invading his senses. The mind took some sweet moments to register it, giving a proper shape and colour to what was above him.  
  
Lines. Brown. Wood. A ceiling.  
  
His mind worked the notion around, connecting together the dots of an imaginary path to recognition.  
  
He was under a ceiling, so that meant he was inside. Probably a house then.  
  
His fingers moved again, scratching a coarse surface. He remembered the movement and the muscles remembered it too. But this time there was not the soft and warm thing enveloping his hand. Nonetheless he touched, recognizing the weave as a sheet.  
  
Was he on a bed? It wouldn’t have been odd in a house.  
  
Then a voice distracted him. It was far but it quickly got closer, and kept screaming a word in a petulant way “Bifur! Bifur!”  
  
In his mind that word made not much sense. There was not an object he could associate with it, yet it had an aura of belonging about it.  
  
It must have meant something important even if he could not remember what.  
  
The warm touch encircled his hand once more, and a face popped in front of his eyes towering on him.  
  
It was small, and its mouth opened in a smile in which teeth were missing. The hair were an unkept mess that flowed down tickling his own face.  
  
It must have tickled him, because he felt his skin stretch as the muscles pulled in a grimace, giving him back as response an even bigger smile on the tiny face.  
  
The little guest laughed. It was raw, natural as water thundering at the foot of a waterfall. Loud and disharmonic yet he found it endearing.  
  
As summoned by it, other dwarrows entered the room the little guest and he were in.  
  
They came closer and when he could clearly see their faces, he recognized some of their features. There was a beard of a vibrant ginger or wrinkles around the eyes that spoke to him of home. A smile that left the impression of a daily sight. High foreheads that reminded him of family.  
  
They came to stand close to the bed where he was laying on and where the dwarfling had plopped himself down too, each one of them with elated expressions on their faces  
  
They were there, five grown dwarrows surrounding his bed and he was torn between founding it unsettling and feeling the belonging.  
  
One of them spoke calling him son, and to him that sounded like such a nice concept. It felt like care and protection.  
  
He opened his mouth to answer, to tell the dam about the pleasant feeling that was warming him inside, but no intelligible word came out.  
  
Just rasping gurgles.  
  
He tried again and guttural sounds came out. He was dumbfounded and so were the ones around him. The dwarfling moved closer to him, almost to the point he could sneak his unruled mop of hair under his arm.  
  
The dam asked once more “my son, how are you doing?” only for it to remain unanswered.  
  
The fifth dwarrow, the one he could not even vaguely recognize, approached him; though it gave him more chill than anything else, the feeling of approaching disaster, making him retreat in the farthest corner of the bed, dwarfling following suite.  
  
"Bifur please, let the doctor check you" the dam pleaded, gently caressing gently his hand.  
  
By then he had figured out that Bifur meant him, so doctor must have indicated the strange dwarf. The dam though was… secure. She was safe for Bifur, so he allowed the doctor to examine him.  
  
The doctor touched his throat, his neck, ordered Bifur to open his mouth wide and checked inside it too. Everything looked in order, according to him.  
  
"The windpipe doesn’t look damaged. It must be.." the doctor moved his hands from the moth to the forehead, and Bifur screamed.  
  
Whatever ache had been sleeping, a constant buzz that rested at the back of his mind and flesh, immediately erupted in a pounding suffering as the doctor touched his forehead.  
  
Everyone present was alarmed by the sheer pain in his scream. Even the dwarfling scampered away to hide behind the dam with the ginger beard.  
  
His shout didn't seem to cease so one of the other dwarrows sneaked in between Bifur and the doctor, sitting on the bed next to him and cuddling Bifur close to himself. He was warm too and Bifur was reminded of time gone by and childhood memories by that hug.  
  
“We're here for you my son. Da's here. You're gonna be well.”  
  
Slowly Bifur heard his own scream flagging, and he hid his face in his father's arm.  
  
“It seems the axe in his head has caused more damage than we had predicted possible. I will ask some more capable physician to inspect the injury, later” the doctor mumbled more to himself than to the dwarrows in the room “ah this war, more useless than a battalion of elves...”  
  
Then before exiting the door, he turned around to urge the guests “Masters, please let him rest for now.”  
  
His father hugged him closer, before the dwarrow, that up to that moment had been silent, said to the older dwarrow “brother, let him rest. You can keep pampering him another day.”  
  
With a sigh Bifur nudged his father to go, trying to smile to let them understand he was doing fine, even if the pain was still lingering in his body.  
  
The four adults were about to leave the room too, but the little guest slipped away from his mother's hand and jumped on the bed to briefly hug Bifur.  
  
Still smiling with his mouth wide open disclosing all the missing teeth, he rummaged through a pocket of his vest to show Bifur a little wooden figure.  
  
“Bofur, come and leave your cousin to rest!”  
  
The dwarfling yelled back a “yes mama!” to the dam, before hugging Bifur once more and leaving him with the wooden figure in his hand.  
  
Left alone, Bifur looked at the little toy. It was a small bird, roughly carved in a single block.  
  
In due time, when moving his fingers would have not felt like draining all his energy, he could use a carving knife to define it better.  
  
For now Bifur looked at the bird toy and smiled.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the fanbook for HobbitCon 3  
> I hope you liked it. Thank you for reading :)


End file.
